


Come Light Me Up

by JudeAraya



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2019 Era (Phandom), Clothes Sharing, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Smut, Teasing, did they ever have a meeting?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:35:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22034929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JudeAraya/pseuds/JudeAraya
Summary: The clothes sharing, Dan being a teasing little shit, Phil might be slightly narcissistic or just horny  with feelings fic you didn't know you needed.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 13
Kudos: 128





	Come Light Me Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dayevsphil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dayevsphil/gifts).



> A gift for [Daye](https://dayevsphil.tumblr.com/), just a lovely human who takes the time to cheer me up when I'm in the bad place. This is a little late, but I knew you coulda used some cheering up a few days ago. A certain [Chicken](https://chickenfreeblog.tumblr.com/) told me you might enjoy some clothes sharing or domestic goofiness. The goofiness might have taken a hard left toward smut, but you know. These boys do what they want, I just follow their lead. 
> 
> So many thanks to [redactednp](https://redactednp.tumblr.com/) for the badass beta work! I wrote this in a couple of hours yesterday, so any leftover errors are mine alone!

“Dan, are you roleplaying me?”

“Wot?” Dan didn’t look up. He had a pen in his mouth, a notebook filled with unintelligible handwriting: words crossed out, smeared ink everywhere, rewritten sentences in margins. To be fair, Dan’s handwriting was almost impossible to read even on the best of days. 

“This,” Phil said. He came up behind Dan and tugged on the collar of his shirt, the red-and-white-striped one. “And why are you even wearing my jacket right now?” 

Dan looked up and tucked the pen behind his ear. His silver hoop glinted; he’d not had that in for a few days. 

“We have a meeting, remember?” Dan’s hair was in tempting curls, not fluffed and messy like it would be on a day home. Phil scanned his memory and came up blank. 

“We do?” He opened his calendar app. There was nothing on his calendar, or their shared one. “How could I forget…?” 

Dan tossed his notebook on the couch, skirting it and greeting Phil with a kiss at the corner of his lips. “Mar texted, didn’t you get it?” 

“No?” Phil checked his phone again. “Am I losing my mind?” 

“Hm,” Dan said, cheeky and much too cute. He looped his finger through Phil’s belt-loop and tugged him toward the door. “If a tree falls in the forest…”

“But I just got home,” Phil whined. He was tugging his trainers on anyway. “Hold on. Are you implying I was already daft?” 

“Mate, you said it, not me.” Dan said. Phil crowded him close to the wall. 

“Dan,” Phil whispered, “what’s going on?” He touched Dan’s neck as softly as he could. 

“Stop playing dirty,” Dan said, breathy despite an attempt at seriousness. Phil smirked. “We have to go.” 

Phil kissed him, because he could. He cupped the back of Dan’s neck, careful not to mess with his arranged curls. Dan returned the kiss easily, with a small smile Phil could read even in his sleep. A small smile, that was, until Phil chose to _really_ play dirty, gripping Dan’s neck hard, biting his lip and tilting his head to deepen the kiss just so. 

There was really nothing in the world like taking his Dan, lovely long body and muscles and new confidence, and melting, melting, melting him with a kiss.

“Where’re we going, Dan?” Phil whispered against his lips. 

Dan cleared his throat and pulled back, head thunking against the wall. “Coffee,” he said hoarsely. 

“Why are you wearing my clothes?” Phil asked. His mouth was now grazing Dan’s neck. 

“Who says these’re yours?” Dan’s fingers tangled in the fabric of Phil’s shirt. 

“C’mon, you know these are eighty percent worn by yours truly.” 

“Maybe I was feeling a little Phillie today,” Dan said. Phil huffed a laugh, then swallowed Dan’s giggle with a sweeter kiss. Something was up, he could feel it, but Dan seemed determined to see whatever this was through. Pink cheeked, dimpling and pliant under all the kisses, Phil had to assume it was something that would make Dan happy. Which made him happy. 

It wasn’t raining, exactly, but London was soft with fog. A little chilly for Dan’s—excuse him, _Phil’s_ —denim jacket. Dan was something else in that blurry, almost erased space. A smudge of color that burned bright amists the throng of Londoners around them. Dan wore color, of course—more than his online persona, at least. This wasn’t just about the color, although Dan so bright and young and healthy looking did _things_ for Phil. It was Dan in _his_ clothes. They shared clothes, yes. Often due to laundry laziness, or some shared tastes. There were just some things which were more...Dan. Or more Phil. 

This was a more Phil outfit. 

Was it narcissism, then, that Dan wearing his clothes was really working on Phil? 

They’d just pushed through the door of Starbucks when their phones chimed. 

_Mar: Sry can’t make it, reschedule soon?_

Dan pocketed his phone. “I guess it’s just us then.” 

Phil frowned. He was sure Dan was up to something earlier, because he’d been sure there was no meeting. But if Martyn had texted…

“We don’t have to stop here, then, if you don’t want,” he said. Dan wasn’t always much for the corporate. 

“It’s pumpkin spice time, Phil, of course we do,” Dan said. He led Phil to the counter, ordering him a grande and himself a tea. “I’m caffeinated enough,” he explained when Phil gave him a look. 

“Alright,” Phil said, still puzzled. 

“Let’s stay,” Dan suggested when Phil turned toward the door, drink in hand. “We’re already out.” 

“What’s gotten into you?” Phil asked. Still, he followed Dan to a corner table near the window. Dan’s hair was damp from their walk, a perfect curl hanging over his forehead. At home Phil would have playfully tugged on it and asked for a kiss. Now, he stared at it longingly. Dan was removing the lid from his tea, eyes steady on Phil’s. Sometimes Dan emerged from a brainstorming and writing session moody, frustrated. Today must have gone well, what with the downright playful look in his eyes. Well, that and the way Dan pressed his foot against Phil’s calf, running it up to the inside of his knee. 

Phil jerked, almost spilling his latte. “Dan!”

“What?” Dan sipped his tea and blinked, eyes wide and beautiful brown in the grey London day filtering through the large windows. 

“Dan, you’re over six feet tall. You cannot put your foot between my legs with subtlety at a small table!” 

Dan laughed and shrugged. “Who said I was going for subtle?” 

Phil stared at him, barely managing not to startle when Dan wrapped his ankles around his own. He watched Dan lean forward, steal his drink straw and lick the whipped cream from it. Slowly. With way too much tongue and eye contact that went from direct to filthy. How did he do that? Any time Phil tried to go for sexy or seductive he ended up pulling the strangest faces. Dan often told him it was in unfiltered, spontaneous looks that Phil seduced him. That he was naturally sexy and charismatic, that he didn’t need to try.

Not that Phil couldn’t seduce Dan intentionally. He just went about it differently. And in privacy. 

“If you were planning to tease me, you could have just done that with that pen at home,” Phil pointed out. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Dan popped the straw back into Phil’s drink. Phil narrowed his eyes. “Don’t.” 

“Don’t what?” Phil asked.

“Don’t overthink this you spork. Just enjoy some coffee with me before we go home.” 

“You’re not even having coffee,” Phil said. His attempt at casual failed utterly; even he could hear the petulance in his tone. Phil loved surprises but he was terrible with waiting.

Dan’s face was brilliant, all soft-true smile, chin propped on his hand, eyes wide open in love. It struck Phil in the stomach, that look. No matter how hard Dan ever tried, he’d never been good at hiding it from the camera. They’d edited and reworked gaming videos to try to cut that look out at first. Later, though Dan did a lot of the editing, Phil left as much of it in videos as he could. Again, maybe it was narcissism. But there was something about the tangibility, the posterity of knowing Phil had done something in his life to deserve being loved the way Dan did. 

“ _Phil_ ,” Dan said, soft and just for him. 

“Yeah, okay,” Phil said. 

Dan touched the back of Phil’s hand, which took him by surprise. He didn’t comment. Instead he smiled and let himself relax into whatever moment Dan was making for them both. For the most part they didn’t touch like this in public. Now, they did. Rarely, but with slightly more comfort each time. Their lives were still in the liminal space of paradigm shift, one where they were refiguring boundaries. Where they were figuring if they even _wanted_ to refigure boundaries. 

Dan was a lovely tease in Phil’s clothes, laughter in his eyes, touching Phil openly. Despite his confusion, Phil would be a fool not to play along. 

So he did. He let Dan trail the pad of his fingertip between Phil’s fingers. He watched Dan bite his lip the way he _knew_ worked on Phil. Watched Dan play with the earring he didn’t always wear. It was their often-used secret code when out or on tour or at cons—a question, an answer, a promise that something sexy or dirty or _fun_ was coming.

* * *

They made it home in one piece, though Phil was a mess by the time they’d shut the door. Dan had lingered over his tea for an excruciating half-hour, all smiles and flirtatious dimples, playing downright dirty. He even let Phil walk a half-pace behind him most of the way home, knowing what Phil was unabashedly checking out. No matter how often Dan insisted he had a pancake bum, Phil would insist even louder that Dan’s ass was delicious. He’d finally won rights to appreciate it without self-deprecation from Dan after a hard-won, fifteen-round rock-paper-scissors battle.

He kicked the door shut behind him, leaving a smeared, wet shoe print on the door. Phil snagged Dan by the back of his jacket before he could get more than a step away. 

“Are you done now?” he whispered into Dan’s ear. Dan didn’t fight him; he sagged back against him, a breath of a laugh slipping out, hands already guiding Phil’s under his shirt, fingertips in the waistband of his jeans. 

“And here I thought we were just getting started,” Dan said. 

“God, what a line.” Phil bit Dan’s earlobe. “If I walked away right now you’d deserve it just for that.” 

“But you won’t,” Dan said, turning and meeting Phil’s lips with certainty and precision. Phil took the opportunity to get both hands on Dan’s ass, squeezing hard enough to bring Dan up onto his toes. He loved this, having to tilt even the tiniest bit up to meet Dan’s mouth. 

“Dan,” Phil pulled away from Dan’s lips with a gasp, “are you planning on doing this right here?” Not that Phil objected to a spontaneous fuck, but he’d grown to appreciate sex on soft surfaces, or in proximity to luxuries like lube and tissues. 

“C’mon then,” Dan said. He pushed Phil’s coat from his shoulders, the soft _thwomp_ of it hitting the floor lost in the smattering of kisses Dan was littering over Phil’s cheeks and ear. 

“Take yours off,” Phil said, starting to pull Dan’s—well, his—jacket off. Dan hopped away, tossing a smirk over his shoulder. Dan was such a cheeky little shit, but it was worth the surprise to do what he wanted when he was in this mood. They were remarkably easy with sex and Phil did love changing things up; in the right mood, Dan loved indulging him. It was a good mix. 

Dan pulled him into the bedroom. A mess of clothing strewn on the floor and the bed took him by surprise. 

“Mate, what the fuck?” Phil kicked some clothes out of the way and watched in shock as Dan simply sat on the bed, directly on a pile of clothes, and popped another smile. He spread his legs a little. Nothing lewd, but definitely suggestive. 

“Well, this is new,” Phil said. 

“What?” 

“We’re fucking on a pile of my clothes? Is this some sort of new tumblr-inspired kink?”

“No, buffoon,” Dan said. He pulled Phil in by the hips. “I was just looking for the right ones. I got a little carried away.” 

“The right ones h-how?” Phil bit his lip as Dan unbuttoned his pants in quick order, fingers trailing over his cock and down the seam of his jeans. 

“Never mind that,” Dan said. He got Phil’s jeans down enough to reveal his pants, not too much to constrict movement. He kicked Phil’s legs apart as much as they’d go, then tucked the elastic down under his balls. 

Phil was hard with impressive speed. Dan didn’t touch him immediately; instead he took the time to appreciate Phil’s body. When he did touch him, it was to adjust Phil’s balls. Phil assumed there was some sort of issue with symmetry or Dan’s need for perfect aesthetic composition. He traced them with a finger, then drew a line up the length of Phil’s cock. He touched the tip, then licked the tiny drop of precome from his fingertip. His eyes were blown out, hair still damp, curls wild. Phil tugged on one. 

“You have the prettiest cock,” Dan said. Phil traced the seam of Dan’s lips with his thumb, then pushed it in. Dan sucked on it automatically, lashes fluttering shut. Phil dragged it back out; Dan nipped at the end, running his own palms up and over Phil’s exposed thighs, his hips, rucking the hem of his shirt up to scratch his nails down Phil’s belly. 

“ _You’re_ the prettiest,” Phil said, low. He ran his fingers through Dan’s hair, tugging a little, tipping Dan’s head back to admire his pink lips and red cheeks. The way the white of the shirt, the easy fit of light denim brought out an exciting softness, a thrilling newness. Dan was often soft; he was cosy and easy, he was pliant or comfortable, a chameleon in and out of his clothes. But this was its own softness, one Phil didn’t have words for just yet. 

“You just wanna fuck me in your clothes,” Dan said on a laugh. 

“Right now, I just wanna fuck,” Phil said honestly. “We’ll think about my ego later if you’ll suck my dick now.” 

“ _Oooh_ , bossy,” Dan said. Phil would believe he was a bit more put out if he wasn’t already licking his way up Phil’s cock with a happy, hungry little sigh that was so utterly _Dan_. Phil rested his hands on Dan’s head, not pushing or pulling his hair, but just appreciating the texture, letting himself feel the warmth and generosity of the moment. It had taken years for them to work this part out—not giving pleasure for the sake of giving it, but trusting being the recipient of that pleasure. Letting themselves enjoy this without worrying that simple enjoyment was selfishness. 

Dan took his time, the way he sometimes did, bringing Phil up and then back down. Dan worked wonders on Phil with soft laughter and murmured encouragement, with kisses to his hip bones, the lightest touch trailing down the curve of his ass. Phil couldn’t lie, he did love this too, how much Dan enjoyed him. It magnified everything. It burned bright in this stomach, burrowed in his chest, throbbed all through his pelvis until his balls were pulled up tight and his fingers were digging into Dan’s shoulders. Until he was half hunched over, trying so hard not to come, trying to put himself in Dan’s hands, to let go only when Dan was done with him. 

“Dan, _Dan_ ,” Phil whimpered. 

“Too much?” Dan sucked the tip of his dick softly, eyes on Phil’s. And _oh_ , Phil wanted to say _no, keep going_ , but he didn’t have the breath, or the balance, or the will. Not when he could feel the build up of pleasure, warmth in his fingers and toes, nearly impossible to hold back. He nodded and touched the tip of Dan’s ear and closed his eyes when Dan closed his. Lost himself to Dan taking him deep, swallowing around him, bruising fingertips gripping his hips. He tapped Dan’s shoulder, his signal that he was about to come. Dan didn’t always like to swallow and Phil was often past words of warning right before. 

But Dan just inhaled and sucked and brought him to a beautiful, shattering precipice, holding him through the whole throbbing mess of orgasm, wrapped arms around his hips and breathed hot and damp against Phil’s hip while he trembled through the aftermath of it all. 

“You all right?” Phil managed at last. Dan nodded and kissed his hip, breath still unsteady. “C’mon, lay back,” Phil said. 

He nudged Dan’s shoulder and went about the work of kicking his pants off. Dan shoveled the clothes off the mattress and flopped back. He was clearly hard, dick pushing up against the zip of his jeans. Phil knelt on the bed, one palm cupping him, a question. Dan shook his head and made grabby hands, pulling him into a tight snuggle that was oddly comfortable, considering Phil was naked from the waist down and Dan was fully clothed. 

“Hmmmm.” Dan ran unsteady fingers through Phil’s hair. “Thank you.” 

“Thank _you_ ,” Phil said, and kissed Dan’s shoulder. “I didn’t know I needed that.” 

“ _I_ knew I needed that,” Dan said. He wiggled away from Phil only long enough to shed his clothes. Phil took off his own shirt, sighing at the cool air on his overheated skin before plastering himself against Dan’s too-warm skin. He was sweating again in minutes. Some things were just worth the mess. 

“You all right?” Phil propped his chin on his palm and looked down at Dan. 

“Perfect,” Dan said. He touched Phil’s lips with the tip of his index finger, looking much too pleased with himself. 

“What else do you need then?” Phil asked, smiling when Dan rolled over and away, pulling Phil’s hand with him. It was the least graceful request for a cuddle Phil had ever been a part of, but they both ended up where they wanted to be. Dan wrapped up, a too-big insistent little spoon, breaths even and long as he slipped into sleep; Phil whispering kisses over his shoulders and the back of his neck. They were both still sweating, the room was strewn with clothes, and Phil was still unsure if a meeting with Martyn had ever actually been on the books. He could have cared less, really. Some things were so absolutely, unequivocally, worth the mess.

**Author's Note:**

> If you feel the urge to reblog [this](https://judearaya.tumblr.com/post/189959349667/fic-come-light-me-up-phan/) on tumblr, who am I to stop you? ;) 
> 
> Title from Ariana Grande's "Into You"
> 
> Daye, I might have stolen your tendency to name things outta song lyrics. It felt appropriate here.
> 
> Also, not great quality, but [this](https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https://66.media.tumblr.com/2adb4af5fc88c6114225d090feece32a/tumblr_pewfazH2a41vynrq4o3_500.jpg&imgrefurl=https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/dan%2Band%2Bphil%2Bplay%2Banime%2Bbucket%2Bof%2Bdoom%2521&docid=rJAm5mCC63wAiM&tbnid=78Xu2-0guNdV6M:&vet=1&w=500&h=280&itg=1&source=sh/x/im) is Phil's outfit that Dan borrowed. Someone should write a sequel where Phil wears Dan's outfit here bc MEOW.


End file.
